


Walk Away Now

by orphan_account



Series: Post-Island [1]
Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Lost: Post-Island, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've lost inspiration for the fake married fic for now, so here's the start of my 'normal' post-series 'verse.<br/>We are picking up in a Los Angeles hospital; probably St. Sebastian's for the irony of it all.<br/>(Everything's fine, some genius just went and got herself shot in the seventies.) </p><p>(Well. And their mutual boyfriend died. But you aren't here because you care about that, are you?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk Away Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldilocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldilocks/gifts).



> I don't like this, but I needed it out of the way because it's been haunting me in note form for months.  
> (And it didn't have the good sense to get better over all that time, either! The nerve.)
> 
> Be kind. I hope you cry.

The room was quiet when he snuck in.  
Only the sound of the monitors and Kate’s half-there voice:  
“Are we saved?”

It hit him like a brick.  
He wondered if she remembered, if that was why she said it.  
She didn’t forget much. Not really.

Sawyer crossed over to her. Sat on the edge of the bed.

“Cassidy not tell you?”  
  
Kate smiled.  
“Told me all kinds of things. Said you were here.”

“Well, nobody’d believe that.” He was a dead man, after all.  
A dead man with a bad habit of running, but so did she.

He’d never seen her still so long, at least not awake.  
Not much of a conversation starter, though. Circumstances and all.  
“You scared the shit out of me,” he told her instead.

Kate said, “Good.”

 

* * *

  


It was less of a “you deserved it”; more of a “me, too”.  
She was tough. Doctors had been throwing it at her since she was eight, when she’d finally shown up with a week-old broken arm.

 

It wasn’t praise.  
Katie’d thought, _Strong is for when they’re uncomfortable_.  
If they ignore it, it’ll go away.  
Kate didn't much want to deal with her, either. 

She wasn’t supposed to come home.  
She had gone back for Claire: she hadn’t really thought about leaving with her. What was left, after that?

Even less now than there had been.  
But him.  
For now, at least.

“Were you with her?” Kate asked.  
Sawyer nodded.  
“Everything’s alright... Hugo’s over there now. Guess his new magic tricks come with a Witness Protection clause.”  
And then he was quiet.

She watched him for a minute, looking everywhere in the room but at her.

“Go ahead,” she said.

 

* * *

 

Damn it, he hadn’t planned on saying anything. Not yet.  
When Hugo had shown up, he hadn’t needed an explanation, but he’d asked for one. For her. Someone was going to have to tell her.

Problem was, Sawyer hadn’t really told himself yet.  
_Good luck to you, James_.  
He made himself look at her.  
He owed her that much.  
“Jack’s dead.”

But they’d both known that before they left, hadn’t they?  
He didn’t know what he expected, but Kate didn’t give it to him. She nodded once. Never looked away.

“What?” she asked quietly, and he wondered what she was seeing. “You said it, didn’t you? People like us are just better left alone.” 

But the truth was, he’d never meant her.

  

* * *

 

The truth was, part of Kate had let go of Jack months ago.  
Another part, she had left on the island.  
Whatever of her had lived to tell the tale was already somewhere else.

It wasn’t a happier place, but it was quieter.  
He had done what he needed to do.  
Kate was no stranger to martyrs; she’d grown up in church.  
She had been hanging onto those stories for as long as she could remember.  
The thing about them was, they all had the same ending.

Jack had been running toward death as long as she’d known him.  
He didn’t make himself easy to hang onto.

“I didn’t…” Sawyer started. “Dammit, Freckles, I wanted you to be happy.”

She didn’t mean to laugh, but he deserved it.  
Glad to see his scowl, Kate reached for his hand.

She did not say “I know”, even though she did.  
She did not say, “You, too”, but she had.  
She said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

He said, “I owed you one.”


End file.
